


Numinous

by orphan_account



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:30:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitchell shuddered at that voice, at those eyes staring at him so intently. He tilted Mitchell’s head side to side to get a better look at him, and Mitchell wanted to wrench himself away, but he was frozen to the spot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Numinous

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to peachchild for whipping another fic into shape :D

The man standing across from him looked at Mitchell consideringly, a chilling smile on his face. Mitchell heard one of his men groan, and with a roiling feeling in his stomach realized some of them weren’t moving. The man stepped closer to him and grabbed his chin in a nearly bruising grip.

“And another one stumbles in.”

Mitchell shuddered at that voice, at those eyes staring at him so intently. He tilted Mitchell’s head side to side to get a better look at him, and Mitchell wanted to wrench himself away, but he was frozen to the spot.

“This one would be good, don’t you think?” he asked the other man, although it was clear he wasn’t expecting an answer. “A little clean up,” he said absently with a small swipe of his thumb at the dirt caked onto his cheek, “and he’ll do nicely.” When he stepped back, Mitchell felt a little more like he could breathe again.

“What are you?” he choked out, but the other man just waved the question off.

“I have an offer for you,” he said casually as he stepped back into his space. “How would you like to be free of this?”

“What?”

“Pain, death,” he replied, smiling that same malicious smile, “fear.” Two of his teeth got longer as he spoke, and Mitchell thought he must have been seeing things, at first. “Would you like to make it out of here alive?” He didn’t respond. “What if,” he added, a long, considering pause in the middle, “I also save your men?”

Before Mitchell could really think about what he was doing, he nodded. He barely saw the man move before there was a searing pain at his neck.

~

Mitchell pressed kisses to every bit of skin he could reach, and even though Anders was pretending to be asleep, he still grinned. When it was clear Mitchell wasn’t going to let him sleep, he rolled onto his side and ran a hand up and down Mitchell’s side, sometimes grazing his hip.

“So? Why do I need to be up?”

“You need to go to work,” he replied, voice still a little rough from sleep. Anders groaned and flopped onto his back. “Get up, you big baby.” It didn’t sound nearly as harsh as it could have and he knew it, and he knew exactly what Anders was going to say the minute that grin spread across his face and he leaned over Mitchell.

“I already am up,” he said and ground into Mitchell’s hip. Mitchell rolled his eyes at how terrible and predictable his response was.

“You can take care of it in the shower.”

He tried not to laugh at Anders’s pout and barely succeeded.

“Tell you what,” he started, and reached a hand up to massage the back of Anders’s neck. “If you get to work on time and actually work today, you can do whatever you want to me when you get back.” Anders’s responding grin was eager, almost gleeful, and it so closely resembled a child’s smile on Christmas that Mitchell was almost unnerved.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Anders pressed a kiss to his shoulder and rushed to get ready. Mitchell smiled, a sweet, amused thing that Anders would deny got to him, and relaxed back into the bed, listening to the sounds of the shower and then Anders getting dressed, a process that went much faster than usual this morning.

With a quick kiss and a “See you this afternoon!” Anders was out the door, Mitchell’s laughter following him on the way out.

~

He jolted awake, only thinking of how he needed to get up and run and get away from men with fangs and the men with the sticks and the things he had just seen and--

A hand on his shoulder cut off his train of thought, and he looked at the man from before, Herrick, with wide eyes. His vision was sharper now. He could see the veins pulsing under Herrick’s skin, and he could smell the blood and death on him. He pulled Mitchell up, his grip like iron around his arm. Mitchell didn’t try to fight it; where would he run?

Herrick wrapped his arms tight around him, Mitchell clinging back to the only thing he recognized now that he couldn’t go back, and he shuddered, in fear, disgust, he didn’t know, when Herrick pressed a kiss to the hinge of his jaw.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. You need to feed, and then there’s more to see.”

~

Mitchell was squirming on the bed, legs thrashing under the covers and head rolling on the pillows. He woke with a shudder, eyes darting around even after he realized he was alone. Anders appeared in the doorway, coffee cup halfway to his lips when he realized Mitchell was awake and he rushed over the bed. He nearly missed the table, trying to set his coffee down blindly.

“How are you?”

Mitchell just blinked at him, trying to process that he wasn’t alone.

“Mitchell?”

“Fine,” he mumbled out. “I’m fine.”

“You got a stake through the chest, Mitchell.”

Mitchell’s eyes fluttered shut when Anders ran a hand through his hair, and he moved his head into the touch. Anders watched, resting a hand on his stomach and rubbing his thumb over the skin. Slowly, Mitchell sank into the mattress, the tension bleeding out of his body.

“I just need to sleep.”

“So sleep.”

He wanted to explain that it wasn’t that simple, that he could forget the faces for a little while, but Herrick brought it all rushing back. He was so tired though, and Anders’s touches were so soothing.

Maybe he could sleep for a little while.

~

Herrick idly swiped some of the blood off Mitchell’s cheek and tasted it. It gave him time to let Mitchell squirm, covered in blood and knowing he should have been more discreet about his feeding. Even though he knew what Herrick was doing, it still worked perfectly.

“Go and get cleaned up. I’ll take care of this,” he said finally, and Mitchell nodded, his expression halfway between defiance and shame. He looked away from Herrick, knowing that trying to match him when he had that look on his face would only make things worse for him.

He cleaned himself off as much as he could when he got back, the two girls’s screams echoing in his ears, and pulled on his underwear before he was even completely dry. He had just started buttoning his shirt when Herrick came in and he froze when Herrick held up a hand. His hands dropped to his sides as he waited for his instructions.

He sat on an armchair and beckoned Mitchell over, and when he was in range, grabbed his arm and tugged him onto his lap. Mitchell didn’t resist when Herrick buried his hand in his curls and yanked his head to the side to bare his neck.

“I haven’t eaten yet, and as you ate enough for three,” he said, letting the sentence trail off so he could sink his fangs into the soft curve of his neck, ignoring Mitchell’s pained hiss in his ear. Mitchell’s hands were clenching and unclenching over his bare thighs, trying to ignore the burning pain as Herrick fed roughly.

~

Anders grinned the minute he saw Mitchell walk in, and Mitchell felt himself relax. When he was close enough, Anders tugged him in by the belt loops. Mitchell stepped easily into the v his legs made, hands dropping to the blond’s shoulders and rubbing idly at the nape of his neck.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, but he didn’t sound annoyed.

“I was curious about where you work, so I thought I’d come visit.”

Anders grinned and pressed a kiss to his stomach over his shirt, and it almost tickled.

“It’s almost time for my lunch break--”

“No it’s not!” Dawn cut off from her desk.

“I’m going to take a lunch break anyway, soon,” he amended. He stood, hands moving to Mitchell’s waist. “Want to join me?”

“Sure,” and he grinned when Anders immediately started pressing kisses up his neck and to his jaw.

“Let’s go.”

~

He was alone. Herrick said he left to find him some food, something to help him heal from the bullet that had torn through his shoulder. Mitchell knew he just wanted to entertain himself, and Mitchell wasn’t really in any condition to amuse him until he had healed.

He thought about leaving, just getting up and sneaking out right now, but he knew Herrick would find him. Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy himself. It was thrilling, to be the shark Herrick said he was. He liked to watch as people fidgeted, feeling the danger nearby but not quite sure why. He remembered all of their names, their faces, whether or not they fought or cried or begged. He loved it.

Never mind that he had stopped sleeping. Never mind that despite how much he loved, seeing their faces when he dreamed made him wake up wanting to claw his own eyes out.

~

Mitchell woke slowly with a groan from the sun hitting his face. He rolled over at the sting, burying his face in the chest of the man next to him.

“Didn’t take you for a cuddler.”

It took him a minute to figure out who he was in bed with, still only half awake, but even sleep-roughened he recognized the voice.

“I’m not,” he mumbled, the thin, curly hairs tickling his lips. “Sun’s too damned bright.” Anders hummed in what Mitchell assumed was agreement and tangled a hand in his hair.

“Your bedhead is ridiculous,” he mumbled absently, and even though the comment made him smile, he still pinched his side in retaliation. Anders tugged at the curls in his hand. “We should get breakfast.”

“I’m invited?”

Anders made a noise that sounded vaguely like yes.

“Sounds like a date,” he remarked teasingly.

“Well you are a great lay.”

Mitchell laughed into his chest.

~

“I’m leaving.”

“What?”

Mitchell fought off a shiver at that voice, outwardly calm with the promise of danger—violence—underneath.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, firmer this time. Herrick stared at him thoughtfully, and Mitchell met his stare head on. “I’m going clean.”

“Have you been talking to Carl, because that man is mental,” he replied dismissively. “Come on, Mitchell. We both know there’s no need to feel sorry for your meal, let alone stop eating it.” Mitchell didn’t waver, and Herrick sighed, condescending disappointment dripping from the sound. “Alright. Well, you’ll always have a place here, for when you change your mind.”

Mitchell didn’t comment that it wasn’t going to happen. He knew if he stayed any longer Herrick might convince him not to go.  He left.

~

The blond sitting next to him, Anders, if he recalled correctly, finished off his drink and banged the glass back on the bar. He wiped a drop dribbling down his chin with a thumb and shot him a roguish grin.

“Want to go back to mine and have sex?”

Mitchell laughed, barely managing not to choke on his beer.

“You’re very forward, aren’t you?”

“Why waste time?”

Mitchell cocked his head to the side, considering the offer, before he smiled and dropped some money on the counter to pay for his drinks.

“Okay. Lead the way.”

Anders’s grin widened, those dimples coming out full force and Mitchell felt himself fall a little more. He saw him move but still somehow didn’t expect the kiss Anders planted on him before he was sauntering out of the bar, confident Mitchell would follow him.

He did.


End file.
